The Legacy of Section 31
by Eleutherios
Summary: Commander Karl Weaver represents the most inconvenient of Admiral Marcus' work. In a Federation reeling from the treason of Section 31, can Starfleet find the wisdom not to succumb to the same madness that consumed Marcus? A short prologue for a story I've been contemplating. Please let me know your thoughts!


"The Captain will see you know, Commander Weaver." the receptionist said, nodding towards the door to Captain Valara's office. The door appeared no different than any of the other doors in this wing of Starfleet headquarters, though it was the only door behind which lay Karl Weaver's future.

The Commander spared himself a moment to nervously brush at his meticulously prepared uniform. He felt it was ironic that he suffered from such anxiety—most people on Earth would assume that he, and all the others like him, would be absent such weakness. Those people were wrong, though he doubted many would find some pity within themselves for him, even if they knew the truth.

Overcoming his moment of hesitance, Karl let himself into the office. It was obviously only in temporary use, containing only the Captain's desk and a pair of chairs. Captain Valara occupied the chair behind her desk. In the artificial light of her office, the Captain's skin possessed only a slight orange tint, much closer to Karl's own human skin than the green skin of so many of her fellow Orions. The Captain's black hair was cropped short, and her dark eyes gazed cooly upon Karl as he entered the room and stood at attention before her.

"Commander Karl Weaver, reporting as ordered, sir."

Captain Valara seemed satisfied enough with her brief perusal of Karl as he entered—she did not keep him waiting. "Please have a seat, Commander." she said, waving idly towards the seat opposite her. She hesitated before speaking again, her gaze fixed into space, giving the impression that she was choosing her words carefully. "I want to have a bit of a heart-to-heart with you, Commander. To feel you out, so to speak." She paused again, her gaze not meeting Karl's. This didn't seem a sign of weakness to Karl, merely contemplative.

"I don't agree with the reaction Starfleet had to most of the revelations about Section 31." she continue, now meeting Karl's gaze firmly. "Please don't misunderstand, I think Admiral Marcus' actions were wrong—frankly, I think he must have been mad to attempt what he did. It's how Starfleet has reacted to yourself and others like you that I take issue with. The forty of you participated in no plot against the Federation. You've harmed no one, nor conspired to. You submitted yourself to experimental treatments in good faith in the hope that your various illnesses and conditions might be alleviated. You merely had the misfortune of being used by Section 31, and are left alone to suffer the consequences."

Karl sat in silence as he absorbed the Captain's words, attempting to glean from them some hint of what may lay in his future. It seemed that Captain Valara was sympathetic, but he could not determine whether she was merely expressing regret for the bad news she would soon be delivering, or if she was explaining what might be a new hope for him. He found it hard to meet her gaze, though he forced himself to do so.

The Captain studied him for a moment, and then broke the silence with a question. "How do you feel about your treatment, Commander?"

It did not take him long to consider an answer. "I hate it—but I also understand it." he replied with a small sigh. "Our existence engenders difficult questions for the Federation. Questions that don't have easy solutions, at least any that have been discovered as of yet. Of all the legacies left behind by Section 31, we are the least desired."

Captain Valara gave him a pitying glance. "I imagine it must be difficult knowing that most people wish you were still in hospice care at Starfleet Medical. That they would rather see you live out the last few days of your short life as a miserable shell of your potential, than to be healed by the same technologies that gave rise to Khan. To see those who were once your equals look upon you with—"

"They are still my equals!" Karl interrupted forcefully. "I won't bother denying that I am now physically stronger than an average human—many time stronger. I am also faster, both in mind and body. I am certainly more physically durable. None of these attributes changes my essential worth, and more than it would if I was a Vulcan, or a Deltan, or any other species. Whatever part of me is looking out of myself at this moment, desperately hoping that the society I was raised in does not exile me or imprison me, is no different than the Karl Weaver who wanted nothing more than to serve in Starfleet."

"And now?" the Captain asked him quietly. "Now, after you've been not only altered without your informed consent, but have also been treated with scorn and fear by many of the people on Earth. What does Karl Weaver want now?"

"I want the chance to grow, and to contribute. I want to study nature, and add to our understanding her. I want to step on new worlds, and observe new phenomena, and add those experiences to the memories of our people. It doesn't need to be some grand scientific endeavor—I've always believed that the wonders in science are best demonstrated by the manner in which knowledge of the seemingly insignificant contribute to the knowledge of all other things. I will be content, Captain, if I am allowed to study the even the most innocuous phenomena Starfleet can imagine, as long as I am allowed to attempt a real contribution." The words spilled from Karl's mouth, and he was not able to keep himself from trembling slightly. Karl was not sure if he was being overcome with hope, or just his natural passion for his dreams.

The Captain gave him a gentle smile. Somehow, that tiny smile soothed some of Karl's hurt, and it was difficult to keep from weeping as if he was a small child in her comforting presence. The Captain seemed to come to a decision, and then the smile she gave him grew suddenly warm. Karl no longer felt like a wounded child under her gaze—more like a close sibling.

"I am being given command of a newly commissioned starship—the U.S.S. Adamant. The ship was built for the purpose of turning the fruits of Section 31's labor towards a purpose more in line with the vision of the Federation. It is an attempt to find a balance between hope and vigilance, and I think that on such a ship you can find a home for yourself. I would like you to be my First Officer."


End file.
